A Heart of Mist
by Siakhuinn
Summary: Lucy Moorland led a normal life in late 19th century England, but when her father disappears in the Pacific Colonies she goes to live with her uncle Dr. Victor Frankenstein. Who is his mysterious employer, and what does he think of the new arrival? D/OC
1. Arrival

**Chapter 1**

The clipping of horses' hooves and rattling of the carriage droned on. A small black coach, pulled by a team of large Romanian steeds made its way through a dark and foreboding forest in Central Romania. The carriage was aimed at reaching the small town of Transylvania before nightfall, but the treacherous path through the mountains had not permitted the use of such speeds. The sun had long since faded behind the lifeless trees, plunging the world into darkness. The heat that the sun provided had left just as quickly as its source, immediately cooling the land. The previously clear air had begun to thicken with fog as the night continued on.

Lucy Moorland clutched her thick winter cloak closer around her small frame. It was not a fine piece of clothing, by any means, but it kept the cold out of the freezing English winter mornings she was accustomed to. The screech of an owl nearby startled the girl, sending a shiver down her spine. This was a wild land, frigid and harsh, nothing like the English moors Lucy had grown up in. How had she ended up in this position? She wondered. Her thoughts wandered back home, to one particularly fateful evening.

* * *

"Lucy." Her aunt put a slim hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"Oh! Aunt Susan!" The girl cried. "What if he is never found? I cannot lose my father as well!" Her mother had died several years ago, and Lucy could not bear the loss of her remaining parent.

"Dear one." Aunt Susan began, as kindly as she could manage; children and young adults were never her area of expertise. "Only time will tell." The elder woman sat next to Lucy on the soft sofa. "In the meantime, however, I think that it may do you good to visit your Uncle in Romania."

"Aunt Susan!" Lucy exclaimed, fearful that her aunt was telling the truth, and it would be better for the young woman to travel so very far alone, to stay with her father's eccentric brother. "I could not travel so far on my own!" She argued, satisfied that it was her best defense.

"The world is changing, dear. When I was young I wished for nothing more than the ability to travel the world and see what the men saw…What a woman could never truly see for herself." Susan got a faraway look in her eyes. Lucy had never seen this side of her practical aunt, she always thought her to be the same as she had always been: practical, caring, and empty of wanderlust. Lucy now saw that her aunt had quite a heart for adventure, though she may never live it out herself. "I want you to have the opportunity I never had." Susan finally finished.

"Then," Lucy began softly, slightly guilty that she had not been more receptive to her aunt's ideas before, "I shall go to Romania."

* * *

A bump in the road jerked the already unstable carriage and brought Lucy back to the present. She sighed softly, her father, Dr. James Frankenstein, had an aptitude for science, just like his brother Victor. Unlike Victor, however, with his half-mad experiments and unproven theorems, James had chosen the more practical realm of medicine. Lucy pondered some of the choices that her father made, for instance, in order to not force his only daughter's name with the reputation of his family, he had opted to give her the last name of her mother. That must have been an incredibly tough decision for him; it made for a lot of awkward questions from new acquaintances, having a daughter with a different name. Another hard decision that her father had made was to continue his pursuit in a particular field of medicine. He had gone on a journey to the Pacific Colonies to aid with the cure of a sickness that was plaguing the islands. This was where he had been when Lucy had received the news of his disappearance. She did not know any more details, but even though she hoped that her father was still alive, a part of her felt and feared that he was dead and had truly left her alone in the world. This dread hung over her just as the fog outside of the carriage clung to the dark trees and landscape. Lucy resolved to enjoy herself when she arrived at her uncle's residence. Victor had told her in his letter that he had been living in a castle. A castle!

_'Perhaps,' Susan had said, 'A castle in Romania is not the same thing as a grand English one.' or 'Maybe "her dear uncle" had finally gone completely 'round the bed.' _He may have even been telling the truth; it was of little consequence any way she looked at it. Lucy would soon see for herself the manner of abode in which her uncle had made his home.

Lucy felt herself beginning to doze off. The moon shone through the evergreen boughs, giving enough light to see by, but not so much that it would be of any use to Lucy. The blonde girl leaned her head against the cold, curtained window and closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift off into a light sleep, or so she thought.

* * *

The girl awoke to the squealing of large gate hinges swinging open. Lucy saw a great iron gate close through the window and gasped as she turned to face the rest of her uncle's current abode. He hadn't lied to her; she thought in shock, It was a castle! Perhaps smaller than many others, but it was a castle nonetheless. Three tall towers shot up to the sky above the rest of the stone fortress, many of the windows were dark, she could make out little else about the building in the current light. Her uncle's letters had briefly mentioned a sponsor for his latest work, but he had a habit of forgetting certain things. Sometimes Lucy wondered whether it was intentional or if he genuinely did not think to mention them. The girl was curious about this mysterious employer. He must be extremely wealthy to spare a house of this magnitude for Victor and his laboratory. _He was probably old and stuffy as well as rich, to be interested in the mad ideas that her uncle produced on a regular basis_, she thought, smirking. Perhaps a small old man, bent nearly double, carrying a ruby-topped cane with a worn-out black cloak with red lining. Lucy scolded herself severely, she had been told many times throughout her life to not use her imagination to acquire preconceptions about others. Despite this, the image remained in her mind.

The carriage rolled to a stop and Lucy heard the excitable voice of her uncle drawing near.

"My dear Lucy!" The man exclaimed as he opened the carriage door. He held out his hand to help her out of the vehicle after her long journey. "You must be exhausted!"

She took his hand and stepped out into the chill of the mountain wind. "Hello, Uncle!" she replied, smiling. She really did adore her odd relative and his quirky habits.

"Let's get you inside." Victor said quickly, as he noticed the slim girl begin to shiver.

Lucy nodded and followed her uncle up to the large wooden entrance doors, smiling as he chattered on.

"I put you in the room above the kitchens, it has a wonderful view of when the sun rises and it stays warm throughout most of the day. It is also a great deal more cheerful than many other areas of this house." Lucy could have sworn she saw the man shudder slightly. "Yes…The Count had been very generous; he has equipped the laboratory with everything I could ever need, and constantly brings me new texts to aid in my research." His voice grew excited again as soon as he mentioned research, but then he seemed to remember something. "He is looking forward to meeting you, my dear."

"Me?" Lucy asked timidly as Victor took her cloak from her, hanging it with his own on the hooks of the entry hall.

"Indeed. He expressed the upmost wish to make your acquaintance this very evening, unfortunately, he said he had business of an urgent sort to tend to tonight, he shall come 'round sometimes tomorrow instead." The blonde man said, then added. "If you are not too travel-weary from your journey."

Lucy smiled, resisting the urge to ask her uncle if the count carried a top-hat and a ruby cane. "I should be delighted to meet this Count in the morrow, but unless I rest soon, I fear I will not be very good company."

"Of course!" Victor said, returning his niece's smile. "Your things should be on their way up as we speak, and I shall now show you to your chambers."

Victor led Lucy down several darkened hallways and up a flight of steep stairs before opening a wooden door to a warm, inviting room with a cheery fire. Lucy's belongings were stacked neatly to the side of the large room. The majority of the space in the room was taken up by a large four-poster bed across from the fire, an old wooden wardrobe, and a reading corner, complete with a comfortable looking armchair. It all seemed perfect for Lucy, for she dearly loved to read. There was even a small table, just perfect for drawing.

"Thank you so very much, Uncle!" Lucy exclaimed happily. "It is wonderful!"

"I am glad you think so." The man replied kindly. "You should thank the count even more than me, he is a much better judge of these types of things than I."

"I shall be sure to thank him for his excellent choice of rooms." Lucy smiled sleepily.

"Excellent! Goodnight, Lucy. Sleep well."

"Good night, Uncle!" Lucy smiled again as her uncle left the room. The young woman wasted no time preparing for bed. As curious as she was, being in such a grand place, she decided that walking about in the dark would not be a good start to her stay. She braided her long blonde hair and quickly dresses into her nightgown. The stone floor chilled her bare feet as she made her way from the wardrobe to her large bed. Settling her body under the sheets and warm blankets, she quickly drifted off to sleep.


	2. A Novel Meeting

**Chapter 2 – A Novel Meeting**

Lucy awoke to find the sun streaming through the large window in her new room. The soft rays did little to improve the temperature of the room, which had decreased due to the fire dying down during the night; but it added cheerfulness to the otherwise dreary Romanian landscape. Chilled, Lucy quickly began to dress herself into more suitable clothing. She carefully pulled on a simple blue gown and put her hair up in her customary bun and French braid. Several rebellious strands of hair refused to be neatly tucked away with the rest, but Lucy did not mind greatly, it was a normal occurrence for her wavy locks to defy her wishes.

The blonde girl happily strode down the stairs to where she thought the kitchen might be, following the scents and sounds associated with morning meal preparations. She was anxious to find out what Uncle Victor had in store for today, whether it was work or play. She did not have the same head for science that so permeated the minds of her paternal family, instead preferring the less practical realms of art and literature, but the sciences still intrigued her even if the technical meanings escaped her. The warm scent of freshly baked bread hit her as she opened the door to the large kitchen area. She smiled at the cook, who was busy preparing what Lucy assumed to be this morning's breakfast. She thought the kitchen was rather empty of people, considering the size of the house, but then she recalled that only her Uncle had been living here and he required very little tending to.

"Good morning, Miss Lucy." The cook said kindly, looking up from his work. "Breakfast is nearly finished and Dr. Frankenstein is waiting for you in the dining hall." The man gestured to a nearby set of wooden doors.

"Thank you…" Lucy hesitated; she did not yet know this man's name, as her uncle had not introduced her to the household staff. "…Master Cook." She said finally.

"Thomas, mum." He said with a smile.

"Thank you, Thomas." Lucy said again, as she could now address him properly. Her aunt's care after the death of Lucy's mother had imposed upon her the impact of propriety and the importance of addressing others properly.

Lucy walked through the doors the cook had indicated to find her uncle busily pouring over stacks of notes. Text books and papers littered the surface of the long, sturdy dining table. Lucy chuckled slightly at her scatterbrained relative; he never could be far from his work, even during a meal. Whenever he had taken the time to visit her and his brother, he always brought enough books with him to occupy any free time with his work and ideas. Lucy almost felt bad for taking up his time with her presence. She was by no means a needy person, and would be quite happy spending time alone in this large house. She inwardly resolved to take up no more of her uncle's time than necessary. She would manage well on her own, perhaps this castle held the secrets that she wished she would find in the walls of her own home growing up. Her mother had always said she would let her imagination run away with her. Lucy smiled at the thought, she had not changed in the least, she only managed to hide the fact that she still longed for the romance and charm of the fairytales she had read so often.

The count that her uncle had spoken of was no doubt good company, whether or not he fit the profile that Lucy had placed upon him, for Victor spoke highly of him whenever he was mentioned in conversation. It did not matter too much to Lucy; she just hoped that the count was better for conversation than he uncle. Victor was a brilliant man, and he was very kind, but his mind rested too often on his work to think of speaking of other things.

Victor looked up from his papers to take a drink of his tea, probably cold by now, if Lucy knew her uncle at all. Her suspicions were confirmed when he made a face of slight annoyance and place the small cup back onto its saucer. His eyes paused on Lucy and he smiled cheerfully. "My dear Lucy! I hope you had a pleasant sleep."

"I did." Lucy said with a sincere smile, "I also quite enjoy my view, the sunshine was lovely."

"Enjoy the sun while it lasts, my dear, it does not often make its presence known in this part of the world." Victor cautioned.

Lucy took his words to hear, it sounded so very much like her own country; dull and grey. She honestly did not mind, however, the cloud cover would make all the colors of the landscape stand out more than normal. Overcast days were absent of the harsh sunlight that would hurt her eyes and make painting a difficult task indeed.

Lucy sat down quietly, near a clear space in the table and glanced at some of the papers that covered its surface. The ones within her immediate view were sketches of various body parts, exploded into very detailed views of tissue, muscle and bone. The odd diagrams varied from eyes and fingers to the entirety of a grown man's skeletal structure. One particular drawing caught her eye; it depicted some sort of humanoid being, not entirely human, however. Looking at this paper made Lucy shiver; it was more bulky than an ordinary human and had several distinct differences. Many of the parts looked like part of some sort of machine, while others appeared to be consistent with a real organic flesh. Nearly all of the inner workings of this…this…she did not know what to call it. _This being_, she thought finally. The inner mechanisms all seemed to be replaced with her uncle's intricately designed machinery. Lucy was attempting to decipher her uncle's scrawls when Thomas came in with her breakfast, fresh off the stove.

She kindly thanked the man and began to eat eagerly. She had not had a breakfast like this in quite some time. Her plate featured two steaming buttered flat-cakes and fried eggs. Thomas had even included a freshly baked roll. Lucy ate her food eagerly, savoring each bite. She grinned as she finished eating; today was going to be a grand adventure!

* * *

Lucy spent most of the morning exploring the huge stone structure. She found her uncle's laboratory in the northern-most tower. The expansive space was filled with all manner of electrical workings and Victor's own inventions. Lucy marveled at the work that was being done in the room, from the stringing of electrical wires throughout the height of the tower to the odd stretcher-like mechanism in the center of the room. Not long after she entered the laboratory the slight smell of formaldehyde in the space had grown and was making the slim girl nauseous. Unfortunately, Lucy had not been blessed with the strong stomach that her father had. She resolved herself to work on this aspect of her anatomy; it just took determination and time, she told herself.

She sighed and recalled that there was to be company today, and she really did not want to become ill before the count arrived. Tomorrow then, she would begin training her stomach to behave when she needed it to.

Lucy breathed in the slightly musty, but chemical-free air of the hall as she headed back down the stairs. She passed the door to the Southern Wing of the castle. Always curious, Lucy wondered what was behind the mysterious wooden door. It was always locked. Victor had told her when she inquired of him at lunch that it was the count's personal space for when he came to visit longer than an afternoon. He had the only key, and did not even allow the servants to enter under any circumstances.

This knowledge, of course, did not aid in diminishing her curiosity, in fact, it made her even more intrigued. _What would the Count have to hide that he was still willing to leave around Victor?_

Thinking up all sorts of ridiculous and impractical reasons for the Count's secrecy, Lucy found herself at the East end of the house. Here, she discovered several empty rooms, holding within them nothing but dust and cold stone walls. She was about to stop looking in this area of the castle, when she noticed a stream of light coming out from underneath the door at the far end of the hall.

Lucy gasped in delight as she opened the large door. Within was the largest library she had ever seen. One wall was filled with large windows, flooding the room with light. The other walls were covered in books of all sorts. There was a large fireplace with soft reading chairs on one end, and a multitude of shelves on the other. Lucy, restraining herself from running about like a schoolgirl, carefully made her way to the shelves, and took in the sight of the wealth of knowledge before her.

She browsed isle after isle, finding books of art, history, science, and countless other genres. So engrossed in her task, Lucy did not notice the sky clouding over, darkening both the landscape and the light coming in through the windows.

As Lucy found the fiction section of the massive library, a certain book caught her eye. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, one of her favorite novels. She gingerly removed it from its place on the shelf; it looked older than many of the surrounding books. Opening the cover, Lucy's eyes widened:_ a first edition!_ "Amazing!" She breathed, carefully placing the precious book back on the shelf.

Eventually, Lucy found another, less valuable volume, this one by the great Jane Austen: Northanger Abbey. She grinned and made her way to the sitting area to bury herself in the pages of the romance.

The slim girl sat in one of the comfortable reading chairs near the large empty fireplace and opened her newly found novel. She eagerly dove into the pages, ignorant of the storm brewing outside, blocking much of the remaining sunlight.

"Magnificent. Isn't it?"

Lucy jumped severely at the stranger's voice. It was deep and calm, infused with a very thick Romanian accent. Lucy stood and spun around, her still thumping from his startling her. She stared at the man in front of her.

He was tall and nearly everything about him screamed of aristocracy; from his high cheek-bones and thin lips to his fine black riding coat. His sleek ebony hair was pulled back, held in place by a silver clip, aside from several rebellious strands that framed his face. His only adornment aside from the clip in his hair was the presence of one silver loop in each ear. His clothing was relatively plain, though with enough of an elegant fitting that it completed his aristocratic appearance. Lucy though that this man could be dressed in rags and still have the same commanding air about him. She noted that his attire was all black, aside from gold embroidery on his riding jacket. She looked back up at the man's face and inadvertently studied his eyes. They were an icy blue, she felt as though those eyes could see straight through her. She blinked back to reality as he spoke again.

"Forgive me, Miss Moorland, for interrupting." He began. "I am Count Vladislaus Dracula."


	3. Chills

**Chapter 3 – Chills**

_This_ was the count? Lucy laughed inwardly; of course it was he. There was no other station that would have the capacity to bear the demeanor of the man before her. She took another quick look at Count Dracula. Yes, definitely a count.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Lucy curtseyed gracefully.

"The pleasure is mine." He replied, taking Lucy's hand in his own and bringing it to his lips in a true English fashion.

Lucy blushed slightly; what a gentleman. She wondered if he had spent any time in England, he seemed to speak her native language well and could read it masterfully, if his library was any indication. She found herself wishing that the aristocracy of her own land closer resembled the mannerisms of this man. What little experience Lucy had with the British aristocracy had not been entirely pleasant. She would have been seen in a good light, perhaps, had her father not been who he was; a Frankenstein. She was proud of who she was, and of her father and uncle, but it made for very little acquaintances outside of the family. The count, however, did not seem to share the same prejudices that many others held against her family, for which Lucy was incredibly grateful. The girl hoped her first impressions were not wrong, and that he was always the man she saw in front of her, but she could not be sure.

Lucy surveyed the Count's face again as he stood from his bow and released her hand. She surmised him to be somewhere in his late thirties. _But_, she thought fleetingly, _he is still handsome._ She nearly blushed at her own thought. _Still a silly girl_, she heard her aunt's chiding voice._ Turning everything into a fairy-tale!_

Shaking the thoughts out of her head, she noticed that the hand he had touched was oddly cold. It was then that she realized that the Count's skin had been extremely cold against her own. Reason outlived imagination, and Lucy decided that he only must have just arrived. The temperature could very well have dropped radically in the mountainous Romanian landscape. Despite the earlier morning sun, the sky was dark and looked as though it might snow in short order. Lucy frowned at the window across the room.

The count must have noticed her concern, "I am sure it will clear up soon." He said with an air of confidence.

Lucy turned to him. "Thank you."

He looked at her quizzically with a slight twinkle in his bright eyes.

"For all you've done." She clarified. "You have been so generous to my uncle. He has flourished here with all the time and equipment you allow him to use."

"Not at all." Lucy's companion's lips twitched slightly upward in amusement. "His work is fascinating, and he certainly holds conversations of the most interesting sort."

Lucy completely agreed with him on that point. Interesting was definitely the right word for the conversations she would have with her uncle, aside from the normal pleasantries.

The count gestured toward the book in Lucy's hand. "I will leave you to your reading now." A slight twitch of his hands indicated he had something else to do. "I admit I have not greeted your dear uncle at all this afternoon. When I arrived I had assumed that it was he up here studying some texts, but I was mistaken." He gave a short bow, his lips twitching upward again into an almost smile, "Miss Moorland."

She returned the gesture and watched with interest as he strode out of the large room. He's not at all what I was expecting, Lucy thought as she returned to her seat. She glanced down at the novel in her hands. Susan had always encouraged her to read this particular novel, though she hardly needed persuasion to do so. It was only recently that the she discovered this was because the heroine was much like herself, imagining things without thinking about the consequences. This was also the reason her aunt bade her to read the book, for she thought it may teach the girl that there are consequences to what one might think was harmless imagination. Suffice to say that it did not have the desired effect.

Lucy tried. She really did; but sometimes that was not enough. She did not always catch her mistakes before they became fully-fledged personas in her ever-working inventive mind. He aunt hoped that she would correct her errors before she ended up paying dearly for them like the girl in the book. Lucy kept her thoughts hidden well, especially if she knew she was making wild conclusions, but sometimes, something would slip through in conversation. She hoped to avoid any embarrassing moments related to this as she could, particularly in light of her actual meeting the count. She could not impede on his generosity by thinking him anything more than what she had seen today, and she had no intention of doing so. Even her mind seemed strangely quiet, void of the usual strange notions that normally plagued her mind after an introduction.

If she had thought about it more, she would have thought that he was much closer to the image she usually wished upon new acquaintances. Luckily, the thought did not cross her mind as she continued reading her book, her mind traveling far away to the mysterious halls of Northanger Abbey.

* * *

Lucy looked up from her book and noticed that the light was beginning to fade. Had she really allowed herself to read for so long? She felt a twinge of hunger and wondered if it was nearing suppertime.

Closing her half-finished novel and placing it carefully on the small table to finish later, Lucy stretched her slim frame and began to walk toward the dining room. Her thoughts wandered back to the visitor. Lucy hoped he was enjoying the company of her uncle. The young woman changed direction mid-stride and headed instead to the laboratory.

Lucy froze at the large wooden door, recalling the nausea that she had experienced earlier in the morning._ I have to get over it sometime,_ she told herself. She took a deep determined breath and stepped through the door.

Her eyes widened in curiosity and awe as she looked around the room. Many of the strange machines she had noticed earlier now had electricity coursing through them. There was a faint buzzing coming from the cables overhead, which Lucy assumed was from the electricity as well. The most amazing part that Lucy noticed was the sheer number of electric lights that twinkled and sparked throughout height of the North Tower. _This must be what fairies look like_. She did not bother to scold herself, being so enthralled by the wonders around her.

"Ah! My dear Lucy!" The sound of her uncle's voice brought her back down to the ground.

Lucy slowly stepped down the steep stairs and onto the level ground of the first floor, still marveling at the whirring machinery. She saw the count's small smile as she walked towards her uncle.

"Good evening, Miss Moorland." The count addressed her, his deep voice filled with the same excitement she heard in her uncle's voice whenever he was working. "What do you think of your brilliant uncle's work?"

Lucy turned away from the count and saw Victor working hard on some piece of machinery, his blonde hair disheveled and his slightly round face dirty, but his eyes were filled with triumph mixed with determination. She struggled to find words to respond to the count's question, eventually saying simply, "It's wonderful."

"Just wait until it's finished!" Victor exclaimed as he walked over to where Lucy was standing, not far from Dracula.

Lucy grinned at his enthusiasm. "What is it all for?" She asked.

"Life! Dearest niece!" he replied exuberantly. "I—we are going to be the first people in history to create life through science!"

Lucy shifted uncomfortably, though she held her smile, not wanting to discourage her uncle. This was his life's work, and it was finally becoming a reality. She sincerely hoped that it would not end in failure, even if only for the sanity of her eccentric relative. She glanced at Dracula; he seemed just as excited as Victor, but Lucy could have sworn she saw a dangerous gleam in his icy eyes. His gaze turned to her and a shiver ran down her spine. She wanted to think that this man harbored nothing but good intentions, but she could not be positive. She had no real reason to mistrust him, however, so Lucy was content to believe he was an honorable man who had nothing better to do with his money than a harmless pursuit of science.

"It will be the discovery of the century!" Victor continued. Some sort of realization dawned on his face, "Are you two as hungry as I? I believe it is nearing dinner." He said suddenly.

Lucy nodded in agreement, she had forgotten that was the reason she had come down in the first place. "I am feeling rather hungry myself."

"Well, let us not waste any time." Victor replied cheerfully. "We shall adjourn to the dining room immediately." He hurriedly strode out of the room, eager to fill his stomach.

Lucy gave the count an apologetic look before realizing that he frequented this house and was no doubt used to her uncle's mannerisms.

The corners of Dracula's lips twitched in amusement. "After you, my lady," he said with a slight bow.

Lucy allowed herself to grin widely when she was sure he could no longer see her face. The man was quite charming, whether intentionally or not. She glanced at his aristocratic face as he matched her stride in the wide hall.

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Lucy asked, "Why are you so interested in my uncle's work?"

Dracula returned her gaze and sighed slightly. "I have always found the sciences fascinating, but have not had the good fortune to be adept in the practical application of such ideas. I have always been more inclined to history myself." He smiled slightly, as if he had made some sort of internal joke.

As he did not object to her original question, Lucy continued her inquiry of the tall man at her side. "Why Uncle Victor? Surely he is not the only scientist who caught your interest."

"It is true. There are many men of science who could match your uncle in determination and drive, but most could not beat his availability. Many already have a permanent situation elsewhere." He gave the slim girl a knowing look. "Due to your family's…reputation," he said delicately, "your uncle and I found ourselves in a mutually advantageous situation."

Lucy raised her eyebrows, hoping he would continue to elaborate.

The count took her queue and explained further. "Your uncle would come work for me in pursuit of his life's work and I would provide him with whatever he required."

"And in return?" Lucy asked, still suspicious.

Dracula's lips twitched yet again in amusement. "In return," he started, "I would gain both a hardworking, otherwise unengaged man of science and a worthy chess player for more relaxed evenings as well as the knowledge that our partnership may lead to new scientific breakthrough that could change the world we live in."

Lucy nodded slowly, satisfied with his answer.

The pair arrived in the large dining hall to find Victor coming out of the kitchens, a grin still plastered across his face.

"Supper will be ready shortly." He said cheerfully before taking a seat in what Lucy assumed was his normal place setting.

"Excellent." Dracula said, "Miss Moorland?" he pulled out a chair and indicated that it was for her.

Lucy smiled again and took the seat he offered her, allowing him to push in her chair before taking a seat beside her.

They sat in a comfortable silence until Thomas came out with their food.

"Thank you, Thomas." Lucy said sincerely.

The two men also thanked the cook for the meal before turning to the food he had brought out.

Lucy, happy to finally fill her belly, missed Dracula's lip curl in annoyance before he ate the food in front of him.

Not long after the food arrived, the conversation began anew.

"How do you like my home country so far, Miss Moorland?" Dracula queried of her.

"It is beautiful, at least from what little I have seen." She admitted.

"Perhaps I can arrange for you to see more of the outdoors before it becomes too cold. What do you think, Victor?"

"Marvelous!" He looked at his niece, who wore a small smile. "I think it would be quite enjoyable indeed. What do you say, Lucy?"

Her smile widened. "That would be wonderful!" She burst out loudly, earning an amused smirk from the man at her side. Remembering to keep a check on her excitement, she continued with more dignity. "Thank you for your generous offer; I would be delighted to see more of this land."

"Good." Dracula said. "We shall plan to break from out work on the next suitable day in order to show our newest resident the countryside."

Lucy giggled inwardly. She would look forward to the next warm day very much. For both the company of the count and introduction to the strange new land.

The count stood abruptly after dinner had ended. "I regret to say that I must now return to my own home."

"Are you quite certain?" Lucy asked, concerned. It was now very dark outside.

"Do not trouble yourself on my account, Miss Moorland. I have made this trek many times."

Lucy nodded and then smiled. "I hope that you will find time in your schedule to return soon." She also stood and curtseyed to the count.

"I won't be away for long." He promised. Then, just as he had that afternoon, Dracula took Lucy's hand and brushed his lips against her soft skin.

He straightened and gave a short farewell to Victor before excusing himself from both the room and the house effectively.

Lucy stared down at her hand where he had kissed her. It was once again chilled by his touch, even colder where his lips had moved against the back of her hand.

A shiver ran through Lucy, she had no explanation for his cold touch. He had been in the same warm lab as Victor for hours.

_So why was he so cold?_

* * *

**Author's Note: **The thick plottens! On a sadder note, updates are going to be less frequent now, I had these three chapters nearly all written already, and it will be all-new material for me from here on out. That, coupled with finals fast approaching, will impede my progress on this story. Hopefully not too terribly much, though =)


	4. Checkmate

**Chapter 4 - Checkmate**

Much to Lucy's dismay, there was no sun to speak of in the days following the count's first appearance. Days would start out with the promise of sunshine, but rapidly cloud over as the sun came up. On the other hand, these grey days were filled instead with the Count's nearly constant presence in the house. Most of the hours were filled with him and Victor working tirelessly in the laboratory, something which Lucy was not particularly fond of participating in. She found the science intriguing, but the actual application of that science made her stomach churn.

She had tried the day after the count first arrived to sit in and watch as the two men worked. It was all fine until Victor switched his attentions from the machines and electrical workings in the room to the physical aspects of the monstrous life he planned to create. Lucy certainly supported him in his endeavors, but her small frame could not handle the chemicals used in some of the processes that her uncle would use on a daily basis.

* * *

"_Are you feeling ill, Miss Moorland?"_

_Lucy looked up from where she was sitting, her sketchbook limply sliding off her lap. Her eyes were slightly glazed over and she swayed a little as she nodded. "I'm fine." She managed to choke out; breathing was not coming easily to her._

_The count stared at her for a moment in concern._

"_Really, I am quite alright." The girl insisted, before clambering to her feet clumsily. As soon as she had done so, her vision began to tunnel and she saw nothing but black. The last thing she remembered is feeling strong arms around her before she went completely unconscious. _

"_...she really should not have stayed so long, Victor."_

"_You are right; I will keep a closer eye on her."_

"_No need, I think she will have learned her lesson. She will be fine. Look. She is waking up."_

_Lucy's eyes fluttered open. Her head hurt and she could not see particularly well; everything was slightly blurry. She had recognized her uncle's voice and the count's strong accent, but everything beyond that was a fog. She blinked a few times and must have tried to get up from where she was lying because she felt strong hands on her shoulders, "Miss Moorland, it would be better if you did not try to get up yet."_

_She nodded, confused, and lay back down on the soft surface. She must be in one of the bedrooms; he must have carried her up to wherever she was._

"_You need to rest for a while." Came a soft command accompanied by the count's voice._

"_Yes, dearest Lucy, you would have taken a nasty fall if the count had not been so concerned with your health. You'd best listen to his advice and stay in bed for the while."_

_Lucy heard the sound of the two men leave and closed her eyes again; the blur was just making her head hurt even more. _What happened?_ She thought. _It must have been the chemicals, I really thought I could handle them, but I suppose my own body is against me in that.

_With that thought, she decided to take the men's advice and rest; perhaps she would feel better after a nap. She willed herself to sleep, and it came quickly._

* * *

Lucy shook her head at the memory. Slightly scolding herself for her inobservance that day, she concentrated on what she was doing. She stared down at the black and white checkered board in front of her. _I really am not good at Chess._ The girl made a face and moved her knight to take out her opponent's bishop. Her face twisted in slight mistrust of her own move, she watched as the count made his move. He took his time, but by this point in the game, Lucy realized that he was merely humoring her, and that he had known from the instant she picked up her own piece where he would play next. She smiled slightly at this, grateful that he was more interested in playing than in winning. He would win, there was no doubt of that, but it seemed to be a sign to Lucy that he enjoyed her company.

Lucy smiled at the thought, she was glad to have him to visit with. She wondered had she not stayed too long in the lab a few days prior if he would be keeping her company at the moment. She liked to think he would be; in truth, she was sure of it. It was he who had suggested the chess game, he had been spending less time with her uncle and more with her as the days went on. Lucy spent much of her time reading and drawing when he was not around, but always looked forward to when he would take a break from his work and visit with her. They spoke of many things. He had not been completely honest when he had said he had an interest in history; he knew so much about the past. His wealth of knowledge astounded the young woman, she was eager to continue learning from him, but for now she was content to sit in a comfortable silence and attempt to save some of her dignity as a chess player.

She frowned slightly as he took the freshly moved knight with the other bishop that she had somehow not noticed. Dracula's lips twitched, the closest thing Lucy had seen to him smiling, and wondered what amused him so much, it certainly could not be her playing. She was not that bad. He was just so much better than Victor. Lucy would play and win against her uncle about half of the games they played. Of course, Uncle Victor often did not give the games his full attention, like many of the other things in ordinary life. She frowned again as she made her next move, knowing it was futile.

Lucy sighed slightly as the count again took the piece she had just played. Moping a little, she took her time taking her next turn.

* * *

While Lucy was concentrating, she did not notice the count's gaze lingering on her and his slight look of amusement whenever she pursed her lips in moderate frustration. He was certainly enjoying himself, watching her nose crinkle in irritation when he effortlessly countered her moves was quite amusing. Dare he say, attractive on her pretty yet very young face. He nearly laughed at his own thought, of course he dared; it was not as though there was anything to fear from any human on the surface of this world. There was one thing he did fear, but he found it such a preposterous notion that it did not trouble his mind on a regular basis. In fact, he hardly thought about it at all. The old prophecies did not bother him as they once had. He had been on the earth so long; perhaps he was allowing himself to become complacent. He frowned slightly at the thought, absently picking up a chess piece and placing it down again, not paying attention to where he had ended up putting the small black token.

Dracula looked up from his thoughts at the blonde woman in front of him. His eyes met her bright green ones briefly before she quickly averted her eyes, staring very deliberately at the chess board. He did not need to hear the increasing rate of her strong heart to know she had been staring at him. He allowed himself to smirk slightly as he saw pink flush up her cheeks. Had he really been so absorbed in his thoughts that he had not noticed when she had taken her turn? He was mildly curious to find out how long she had been staring, but it did not really matter. The girl opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it just as quickly. The count slowly made his next move on the board, staring at the woman across the table instead of at the pieces he was moving.

"Check." He said softly, careful to keep his voice from sounding over-confident.

He nearly chuckled as Lucy's brow furrowed yet again. This woman was quite endearing when she was concentrating.

* * *

She thought for a while, still stubbornly looking down at the board, refusing to look at her opponent. _I can't believe I let myself stare. _She admonished herself. _How embarrassing. _She braved a look at the count, who was still gazing at her with his striking blue eyes. Her breath caught in her throat for a moment before she remembered that it was her move. She glanced down at the board again. It was hopeless, but she continued to play, trying to block the tall man's advancing pieces. She did not look up at him again for a while, and instead concentrated on the game. It took her full concentration to keep her King out of harm's way. _ I may not win, but I refuse to make this easy. _Of course, easy is a relative term, and when one's opponent is extremely exceptional at the game in question, the difference between easy and not is minimal.

Her nose once again crinkled in concentration as the pieces came off the board. Lucy did not want to lose a second game that day, and she tried her hardest to strike out on the offensive, but in doing so, she left her king with fewer defenses. The count moved his queen, taking out Lucy's remaining rook. Her eyes widened slightly, his attack had left his queen vulnerable to the single pawn she had left on the field. She looked up at him, wondering slightly if that had been deliberate. _Of course it was; he has not made a mistake in any of our games._ _Why, though?_ She wondered, allowing herself to glance up at her opponent's face. His icy blue eyes practically daring her to make the move. _With the queen out of the way, I will have a shot at the king._ She picked up the last white pawn on the board and took the black queen with the small token. She was nervous all of a sudden. _Why? _She wondered again, there must be a…_Oh._

"Checkmate." Came the count's deep voice from the other side of the table as he moved his own rook to the empty space that Lucy's pawn had occupied a turn before.

He was right, as always. There was no escape for the White King, he had been backed into a corner and Lucy had fallen for the trap. She gave a resigned sigh before looking up at the victor.

"Again?" He asked her, a slight smile on his face.

"I am not sure." Lucy replied carefully, a small smile of her own spread across her full lips. "I fear that my playing does nothing but flatter your ego."

The man surveyed her. "Tomorrow, then. One can only endure so much flattery in a day, do you not agree?" He stood and walked over to her. He helped her out of seat and kissed her hand before taking his leave. "Oh, and Miss Moorland."

She turned to look at the count as he stood in the doorway, half-turned to glance in her direction.

"If you wish me to teach you, I shall be happy to do so."

"I would like that very much, Count." She replied eagerly.

"Good. Until tomorrow."

"Farewell." Lucy said happily. She thought she may yet have a chance to beat the man at his own game, though she still doubted it. If she were to win a game, she was positive it would be because he had let her and not for anything she had done. She watched as the count's black riding coat disappeared down the hall and turned to reset the chess board, ready for a new game in the morrow.

Lucy absently touched the back of her hand, where she had become accustomed to the gentlemanly way the count treated her. His skin was as cold as ever, but she did not mind. _What is on the outside does not make a man. _Her aunt had said this to her many times throughout her life and in many forms. Smiling at the memories of her aunt, she let one more thought float through her head, perhaps a forbidden thought, were Susan to ever hear of it. She would never know, Lucy vowed, this was hers alone and she would never tell a soul. _He is so very handsome and genteel. He would be a fine prince for any story. _Lucy had the grace to blush at her own thoughts, though she did not bother to reprimand herself for them.

_It will stay in my head and that will be the end of it._

* * *

**A/N: **Some perspective from the count. I'm not sure how often I will give insights into what he is thinking; we will see. =)


	5. An Outing: Part I

**Chapter 5 – An Outing: Part I**

Lucy awoke much like she had the past several days. She had slept very soundly despite the Romanian winter cold seeping through the cracks in the castle walls. Her fire always kept her warm through the night. She carefully wrapped her quilt around herself as she stepped into her slippers. They were cool, but not icy like the stone floor. She walked to the large window, which was covered by thick blue fabric. As part of her morning ritual, Lucy had taken to opening her curtains; it was a habit she had brought from home and found it no less satisfying here. This morning was different, however. She frowned slightly as she pulled back the heavy fabric and saw the chilled sky covered in clouds. In the mornings the sun was normally out and shining, but it looked as though there would be no sun today. She sighed slightly before resigning herself to dressing more warmly than usual.

After a flurried attempt at dressing without exposing herself to the cold air, Lucy managed to clothe herself well enough to finish her endeavor without the cold bothering her too much. She glared absentmindedly at the cold, empty space in the room that was the heart. Occasionally it would be lit before she woke up, but her uncle was far too forgetful for her to expect him to do it every morning. There were far too few servants in the household to do all the work necessary to keep everything in order, let alone light all the fires. She took one last glance at the offending piece of masonry before picking up a warm shawl and walking out of the room without a second look; it was bound to be warm in the kitchen.

Not long after, Lucy was grinning; Thomas had given her a sweet roll and she was standing in front of a blazing fire in the dining hall. She thought about the kind man, he was not Romanian, he sounded as if he was from further west; perhaps Spain or Italy. She was not very confident in her judge of accents; but she knew that none of the servants were from Romania. This puzzled her slightly, surely there were many who could use work in this country, and the count seemed like he could afford to hire more than he needed; but still they remained short-staffed. She fleetingly wondered if there was some dastardly reason for the Count not hiring his own people. _He's been nothing but kind to me, though; it has to be something else._ She dismissed the notion, convinced that it was merely her imagination trying to run away again. _I really ought to grow out of these habits; they will get me into trouble._ Lucy laughed, _I sound like Aunt Susan. That won't do at all. _The young woman's thoughts traveled back home to England; she wondered how her aunt was faring. She hoped she was not lonely and instead was enjoying time with her own daughters and taking exciting trips into town for the winter festivities. Lucy smiled as the memory of her parents taking her to the Cendrillon opera as a child came to mind; it was odd for a couple to bring so young of a child out into society, but her parents never truly fell under very many normal standards. She thought of her father, and prayed he was still alive. Her aunt believed otherwise, but Lucy was determined, she knew her father; he was careful and knew how to survive. He would come out alive, he must.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her uncle's voice. "Ah, Lucy, you are awake. Excellent." He said cheerfully. "The count sends his regards and has bid me to tell you that he apologizes that he could not be here today, he had a business matter arise that he had to take care of today."

Lucy nodded, slightly disappointed. "Good morning, Uncle." She smiled; he seemed to be lively and excitable no matter the time of day. She was glad of his cheerful demeanor, she occasionally found herself prone to mulling over things that weren't important to begin with, and Victor could pull her out of those moods nearly as soon as she was in them. Though, as of late, there was another who managed to do the same thing with his mere presence. Putting that thought aside, Lucy returned her attention to her uncle. "I am sure he has much to do, he has been with us for much of the week; a count has a great many other things to do, I imagine." She said plainly.

"Quite right," Victor replied. "He did seem rather concerned for you, though." He added quietly, as if speaking to himself. "Ah, no matter." He said, remembering that Lucy was in the room. "Have you eaten this morning yet?"

"I have." Lucy smiled. "Though I should think to ask you the same question, Uncle."

He laughed cheerfully, "I admit you have reason to, I have not yet had my breakfast. However, before I get around to that, I have something to ask you." Victor smiled. "My dearest niece, how would you like to see the countryside?"

"Really?" Lucy exclaimed before she could stop herself.

Victor nodded, "Why, of course. There is a small village about a mile from here as well; it is not too exciting, but I thought you may want to get out of the castle for a while."

Lucy grinned happily. "I would love to go! Are we going to walk? I must go and put on something warmer!" She was halfway out of the room before Victor called after her.

"Lucy! While it is well advised to put on warm clothes, do not worry about walking, everything has been arranged."

Lucy nodded. "I will be down soon!" She ran up the stairs, glad to finally be seeing more of the country she had only seen glimpses of through the castle's small windows. It was moving closer to winter, but Lucy did not mind the cold, she had plenty of warm clothes from home; Moorish winters were not only cold, but incredibly wet as well. She dug her warm cloak out of the wardrobe and hurried back down to the hall to find her boots. As Lucy laced up her shoes she began to wonder what had prompted her uncle to separate from his work to take her out sightseeing. She did not ponder on it long, however, as Victor soon walked into the hall carrying his own coat and a large basket.

"Are you ready to see the country?" He smiled. "I thought we might pack a lunch, we may be out a while; so I had Thomas make one up this morning."

"I am!" Lucy exclaimed. "That was a splendid idea. I hope the weather this morning was not telling for the remainder of the day." She continued, reminded of the gray this morning.

"I should think not, the sky began to clear up not long after the count left." He replied, donning his own cloak. "It should be a nice day for our outing."

Lucy's smile widened. She took her uncle's extended arm and they walked out of the large castle doors into the chilled Transylvanian air. It was cold but the wind was still, causing the temperature to be more modest than it would have been otherwise. As they walked across the small path to the courtyard, Lucy voiced her wonderings about their transport. "Uncle, you said something about not walking? How are we to get around if not by our own feet? You haven't a carriage here."

"Ah, my dear! The count has provided us with that. He is graciously lending us his own carriage specifically for the purpose and, he added when he spoke to me this morning, as amends for not being able to come himself." Victor smiled. "He is so very generous. I wonder why— Oh! That's right! Lucy," He turned to her, his look suddenly serious, "The count instructed me that, if we are to go into town, we don't mention his name, there is apparently some animosity between him and the local nobility. It would be best not to get on the village's bad side. I am sure they will ask questions, though." He stopped for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. "We will have to think of a suitable alibi; but for now, let us enjoy the country; we shall head toward the village later in the afternoon."

Lucy nodded, only slightly surprised by the news. She was curious about the nature of the hostility between the two noble households, and decided to ask the Count next time she saw him.

The count's carriage pulled up to the walk in nearly as much of a stately manner as Dracula himself would have. Lucy found herself holding her breath as the footman opened the carriage door; half-hoping the illustrious Count would be sitting just beyond it, his face sporting his customary smirk. She found herself slightly disappointed at the sight of an empty carriage and mentally chastised herself for her silliness. Her uncle held out his hand to help her into the carriage and Lucy graciously took it and slid onto the seat to her right. Her uncle climbed in after her and sat across from her, a grin still present on his face. Lucy returned the gesture, excited to see the country.

The carriage lurched to a start, but ran smoothly once it was moving. The road was a bit rough, but not unlike the English country roads Lucy was so accustomed to traveling on. The young woman's eyes grew wide as the carriage left the gates of the castle behind. The carriage windows were not small, much like any large carriage, and allowed Lucy a wide view of the land. To the right, a slow turning windmill caught her eye, a lone structure built on a large rolling hill. Beyond this there were several more hills, just as gentle and round as the last, eventually giving way to foothills and great snow-capped mountains. Not long after they had left, the sun made its presence apparent. It lit up the green of the fields. Lucy surmised that it had rained the night before, for everything glistened in the sunlight. _If it were not so late in the season,_ Lucy thought, _the animals would be out as well._ _I wonder what it is like in the spring._ She hoped she would be in the country long enough to see the snow come and go and spring make an appearance. She had no desire to return home to her Aunt Susan any time soon. _If father came home, that would be different. Until then, I don't want to leave._ _I have felt more at home here these past few weeks than I have in a long time._ Her thoughts faded slowly from her mind and Lucy went back to admiring the countryside. She hoped the village would be as pleasant as the rest of her outing with her uncle.

* * *

Dracula leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He loathed administration of any sort and, though he was a skilled diplomat, was not fond of communicating with the passive-aggressive nobles across Europe. Unfortunately, his status required him to do many things he would rather not do. He smirked slightly as a thought crossed his mind; he would not have to do nearly so much corresponding if there were no nobles to appease. Alas, he could not eat everyone, especially not now. His smirk quickly turned into a frown when he remembered the reason he was responding to Emil Racovita's invitation in the first place. The young scientist wished for benefactors to fund his voyage to the Antarctic. His family had the money to finance the expedition, but Emil's father had refused to fully back the trip, convinced that there was no purpose to the exploration of an iced-over wasteland. Dracula had a mild interest in the man's ambitions, and had originally decided to sponsor him without making an appearance. He was still mildly disinclined to go at all, there may be some there that would recognize him, but he had to make intermittent societal appearances or risk his fellows becoming more suspicious of him than they already were. The less he appeared publicly, the more people seemed to notice obscurities, as subtle as they were.

Dracula continued writing his acceptance letter when a ray of sunlight caught his eye. Not often did the natural light penetrate his office curtains, and it distracted him yet again. Unable to finish whatever insignificant thought he had been writing, the man rose and walked to the window. Squinting, he brushed aside the heavy fabric. The sun hit him full on and he winced, full daylight was incredibly uncomfortable to stand in, but thankfully not painful. He looked down at his hands, pale in the sunlight, half expecting them to burst into flames. It was curious, he often thought himself to be the one most likely to burn in the sunlight, but much of life, or death in his case, was not as he pictured it. Death had not been a huge disappointment in that regard, after the initial shock of realizing he was undead Dracula had quickly accustomed to his new surroundings. It made many things much easier, but, like all power, death especially was cold and hard. Empty. It was only recently he had begun to really notice this, however. He had always known it was there, his emotions left him shortly after his death, but the feeling had never been as acute as it had the last few weeks.

_Could it be that girl?_ He thought fleetingly before hurriedly squashing the notion in his mind. _No. There is another explanation._ There had to be another reason he was feeling different. Verona was expecting again; perhaps that was it. He ran a hand through his ebony hair. They were nowhere near ready for another brood; they had only just finished the work necessary to even begin assembling the creature. Like the last, these too would die and Verona would be heartbroken, as much as she could be. There were times he suspected she had grown as hard as he, perhaps even more so. The only thing he knew for certain remained was fear, and it was the one way he knew he controlled her, as well as the others. It almost made him sad, if he could feel such an emotion, he sometimes found himself wishing there was something in the world that was not afraid of him. Dracula knew he had a quick temper, to put it mildly, and he did not put up with their griping and whining. It had been happening more regularly recently and it was one of the many reasons Dracula had opted to stay out of his own castle. Marishka was the worst. Luckily, the blonde vampire was not adept at finding him when he had taken to hiding from her.

He sighed slightly before allowing his mind to wander back to the young woman who, despite all his denials, was central to his current turmoil. _And half the reason for all this paperwork._ The good Doctor would soon be ready to begin some of the grittier work needed to accomplish their task, and for reasons he had not begun to understand, Dracula felt the need to spare Frankenstein's niece from the dirtier aspects of the science. Dracula refused to think he might actually care for someone; it had been so very long since the last. He decided, for the time being, that he would not think of the reasons behind his actions. He had never cared in the past, even before death. Why should he now? A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he thought about the girl out exploring the country with her absentminded uncle. His slight regret at opting out was diminished by the expanse of the sun over the landscape; he knew Lucy would enjoy herself more if the shining orb was out, while his own druthers about the weather were slightly less…bright. There was also work to be done. _Speaking of which._ The Count glanced back at the desk where his half-written letter stood unfinished. He glared at the unoffensive parchment momentarily before replacing the curtains to their normal spot over the windows. He let out a slight sigh of relief at the departure of the sunlight and turned back to his papers.

* * *

**A/N: **Please don't kill me =/ I know this is suuuuuper long overdue. I came back from 2 months of working at a summer camp to over a month of writer's block. But I have not forgotten by any means! =)

I was originally going to make this chapter longer, but I wanted to keep the word count closer to the previous chapters, and still have a good transition. On another note, if you guys have any ideas about fluffiness you would like to see, feel free to request some prompts. I can't promise I will use them, but I'd love to hear your ideas =)

Cheers, ~Sia


	6. An Outing: Part II

**Chapter 6 – An Outing: Part II**

Lucy could hardly keep the grin off her face. Despite the cold, she was having a wonderful time exploring the Transylvanian countryside. Her uncle had the foresight to pack them a lunch and they were now enjoying the meal on a grassy hill with a glorious view of the mountains. She wished she had brought her sketchbook, but she would next time. Perhaps she could find some paints in the village. She had not thought to bring her own from home, and she missed being able to sit for hours in front of her easel. If she could not find any today, perhaps the Count would know where to find some. She let her gaze wander off toward the mountains again as she ate her sandwich.

Not long after, Victor spoke up. "Well, my dear, shall we head into town? It is not very far from here, if my memory serves correctly."

Lucy smiled. "Of course. I have just finished." She was anxious to meet the local people. She had heard they were wary of outsiders, but she didn't think they could be all that bad.

"Why don't we leave the carriage here and go on foot?" Her uncle suggested. "They may be more open to us if we don't appear in such a bold fashion."

Lucy nodded, knowing the wisdom in his words. She loved to walk, anyhow. Her sturdy boots were warm and comfortable and had always done well for her.

"It's only a few miles up the road." Victor said plainly as he packed the basket back up and put it in the carriage.

"I don't mind walking, Uncle. I enjoy it." She reassured him. "It is how I usually get around at home."

He nodded, more convinced. "This way." He smiled.

Lucy smiled back and began to walk beside her uncle. _I hope the people are as lovely as the countryside_.

She did not have to wait long to find out.

After a mile or so, Lucy could see the first signs of the village. The first thing to come into view was a steeple. At first, Lucy assumed it was a church tower, but as she could see more she realized it was accompanied by many others, all connected together to form a large mansion, which Lucy soon saw was right at the edge of the village.

"Castle Valerious." Her uncle clarified. "These are the nobles the count spoke of. They have some sort of agreement with him, but he said it would be better if we not mention him. We are to say we are just passing through on our way to Bucharest for a convention. I can answer any other questions, I should think. Honesty is always the best policy, my dear."

Lucy nodded; she was curious about the nature of the relationship between the nobles, but thought it better to ask the count about it rather than these strangers. Her eyes brightened as the small marketplace came into view. Her excitement was short-lived, however. As the pair wandered into the heart of the village, Lucy began to feel very unwelcome. Some of the shopkeepers immediately shut their doors as they walked by. She was becoming disheartened, but there were a few peddlers that stayed open despite the strangers.

"Oh, look, Uncle!" Lucy exclaimed happily. Before her was an old woman selling a variety of objects. Her table was covered in small pieces of jewelry and beautifully carved candles. "These are wonderful!"

"Indeed." Victor smiled at his niece. He glanced up at the old woman, who had an incredibly apprehensive look on her face.

"Is there something wrong-?" Lucy began.

"You shouldn't be here." The woman interrupted in a strong accent. It was clear she was not accustomed to Lucy's tongue.

"Excuse me?" The girl asked, suddenly fearful.

The woman leaned closer. "It isn't safe here, for you." She continued. "We don't get strangers here. Things always happen to them; many are afraid of any strangers."

"Why is that?" Lucy asked, getting a sudden urge to start back to the carriage.

"The monsters." The woman said simply, starting to pack up her belongings.

"Pardon?" Victor interjected.

"I cannot tell you what you wish." The woman said. "When the sun is covered by the clouds, no one dares to come outside. There are devilish flying beasts that come only when the sun is no longer shining. They are always hungry." The woman glanced up at the sky fearfully. "You must leave now. Before any harm comes to you."

With those words, the old woman left with her wares. Lucy glanced up at the sky, which was still incredibly clear and bright. She suddenly wondered if the villagers ever kidnapped visitors to feed to whatever had terrorized their town; a terror that Lucy had trouble believing in at all. She had no trouble, however, believing that she was in danger being in this village. Even the buildings, crooked and harsh, appeared to glare at her and her uncle as they passed by. They didn't see another soul as they walked towards the steeple of the village's church.

Lucy marveled at the architecture of the building as they approached. "Uncle, I don't think we should linger much longer."

"I agree. I had hoped the villagers would be more accommodating, but I see they are suspicious of everyone." Victor replied. "Let's head back."

Lucy turned and gasped as she ran into a solid form. She looked up into the face of an unknown man. His frown frightened her and she shrunk back while he surveyed both her and her uncle.

"Pardon my manners," he said, his face softening slightly. "I am Velkan Valerious. For what purpose have you come to this place?"

"I am Victor Frankenstein, and this is my niece, Lucy." Victor replied. "We were hoping merely to pass through, we shan't be staying. Though, we had hoped to be more welcomed."

Lucy looked at the noble as her uncle spoke. His hair fell in soft brown waves and framed a slightly round handsome face. His dark eyes were piercing, wary of all that was going on around him. He seemed like a very intense individual, but maybe it was their presence that made him so at this moment. Lucy frowned slightly; he was not as handsome as the count. _Why am I comparing them?_ She thought absently before deciding that she didn't like the man before her very much. He looked like nice enough, but Lucy wondered if he was one of those men who was set it his ways and would not change them no matter what. Not that his views concerned her terribly, but she did wonder why he hated Dracula so much.

"Good to meet you both. I am sorry to say that our small village has never been kind to strangers. I suggest we walk towards the road while we talk." The man said, glancing around. "I never know what the people here will do. They have been frightened enough in the past."

Victor nodded and they began to walk back toward the cobble road at the center of town. Lucy relaxed slightly, at least he was well-mannered. _Don't be so quick to judge, child. _She nearly rolled her eyes at her aunt's words. It was sound advice, but Lucy was tired of hearing it, even when she was thousands of miles away.

They were nearly through town and on their way back to the carriage when Lucy noticed them. A shadow between buildings or a startled bird flying out from its resting place; there was something following them. Lucy was sure of it. She crept closer to Victor, praying he would walk faster. Velkan appeared unconcerned as he chatted, albeit guardedly, with her uncle about the town and Victor's work. Meanwhile, Lucy was growing increasingly jumpy. She didn't want to look around just in case something was behind her. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck as they continued to walk.

All of a sudden, they were everywhere. Lucy screamed as someone grabbed her and pulled her away from her uncle and the nobleman. Velkan drew his sword, threatening the townsfolk.

"Let her go! She has done nothing to you!" He entreated them.

Lucy trembled in the grasp of a large peasant man. His grip was rough and she was positive it had been some considerable time since he had last bathed. Tears escaped her eyes and ran down her cheeks, Velkan and Victor could not defeat the peasants. Perhaps they would listen to the young Valerious. She wished the count had come with them; then they would never have even come to the village.

"I won't be the next one to be taken!" Someone from the crowd cried.

"Let them take the strangers!" Another shout came.

"We've got to protect our own!"

"They will come because of her!"

"Quiet!" Velkan commanded. Miraculously, a hush fell over the crowd. "This is not the solution! Stealing the lives of innocents makes you no better than the monsters that would take them from you. My family has long been working on a solution to rid our land of these terrors, but we need time. Will sacrificing the girl protect you once the monsters tire of her? They will always come back until we can destroy them for good."

"Your family!" A man scoffed incredulously. Lucy watched from the side as he pushed through the crowd. He had long greasy light colored hair and a top-hat. Like the rest of the crowd, he too was dirty and unkempt, but seemed to hold some weight in the eyes of the rest of the townsfolk. "Your family has had decades; centuries even, to rid us of the beasts. Why should we continue to trust your leadership?"

There was nodding among the peasants. A murmur began to rise through the crowd.

Velkan blanched, "So you will become monsters as well? I pray your souls can find rest after what you have done."

Lucy began to panic. He was giving in? She began to sob, now that Velkan acknowledged the existence of the monsters that the old woman spoke of, Lucy was much more convinced that they were real. No one would know what happened to her…

She jumped as lightning cracked across the sky. Clouds rolled in faster than she thought possible, blocking out the sun and casting a shadow over the land.

"They are coming!" A woman screamed.

"Give them the girl!" Another voice shouted.

Velkan held his ground as the crowd became increasingly restless. The man with the top hat kept glancing back at the town, debating whether to run or to stand his ground with his beliefs against the young noble.

Another bolt of lightning crossed the sky and thunder shook the town, rattling the buildings. The man holding Lucy loosened his grip in surprise. Thinking quickly, she kicked out at her captor and struggled out of his grasp. She began to run toward Velkan and Victor when a strong voice stopped even her.

"Is this what you have become? You are worse than the animals that hunt your weak, pathetic selves."

_Dracula. _Lucy breathed. New tears formed in her eyes, first out of relief, then out of fear for the count. _What will they do to him?_

Count Dracula stepped toward the mob of townsfolk, his stance suggested he was calm, but the look on his face was like something Lucy had never seen before. He was livid. There was no other word to explain that emotion.

With every step Dracula took, the crowd took two back. They cowered in his presence, afraid to even meet his gaze. Velkan glared at the Count, he was the only one who would hold eye contact with the other man.

"You would know about those _animals, _Count." Velkan spat at him.

Dracula ignored the younger man and walked toward Lucy. "Are you hurt?" He asked gently.

Lucy shook her head, but the action made her dizzy and she nearly fell. She began to cry as Dracula picked her up with as much care as he had spoken to her. He strode past the remaining villagers and past Valerious again. "You had best keep control of your _people_ before they break our agreement. I have no issue with recanting my own words if they do not adhere to theirs." He said coldly as he passed the noble.

"You don't scare me." Velkan retorted.

"I should." Dracula replied quietly. "You could learn that from your village, at least." He said before walking out of the town, Victor followed immediately.

After they were a decent distance from the town, Lucy looked up at Dracula, he still looked incredibly angry, but she spoke in spite of it, "I—I can walk, Count."

He glanced down at the girl in his arms and sighed, realizing he was still irritated he tried to soften his face. "I am sorry, Miss Moorland. I never thought those peasants would be so unpredictable. It has been long since I have been into the village."

Lucy nodded, not wanting to think about the ordeal in the town. "How did you come by when—?" She choked.

"I had a feeling." He replied plainly, "Unfortunately, I was right." He smiled down at her sadly, as much as he ever did. "Now," he said. "Let's get you back home, where it is warm. Hmm?"

Lucy nodded, smiling slightly. _Home_.

* * *

**A/N: **This was later than I meant it to be, but here it is. =) We should see the introduction of Igor within the next few chapters, I think. As well as a trip to Bucharest.


	7. Tears

**Chapter 7 – Tears**

Home.

Lucy could not help but breathe a sigh of relief as she walked through the stone archway of the castle foyer.

"I—I need to wash up." She managed shakily, bidding the tears collecting in her eyes not to fall as she struggled to banish the events the occurred in the village from her mind.

"Of course." The count replied graciously as the young woman started up the stairs to the washroom.

Lucy made it to the small room before collapsing onto the hard stone floor, her slight form shaking with pent-up sobs. She had always been taught to be conservative with her emotions, especially around others. She did not want to have either Dracula or her Uncle Victor to see her in such a state. She sat, huddled on the cold floor, her arms wrapped around herself. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she sought to keep her sobs quiet. She knew sound carried far through the stone halls, even past closed doors. She did not want to disturb the men downstairs or have them know she was having such difficulties at the moment. They had been through enough already. She would get over the terrifying afternoon, she just needed some time.

That was what she told herself, anyway. She stood suddenly, still sobbing, the images of that incident still replaying over and over in her mind. She grabbed the soap from the wash basin and immediately began scrubbing her skin wherever it had come into contact with the man's attire. She cried as she scrubbed her check viciously with the harsh soap. The people had frightened her so much, and now she could neither erase their sight, sound, nor smell from her person. Dirt and sweat and fear; not fear of the monsters, but fear of the count. Clammy, cowardly fear.

"Get it off!" She wailed quietly, still aware of the men downstairs. Her fingers fumbled with the laces of her heavy dress as she tried to pry it off of her body. Her small limbs weren't obeying her properly, trembling as she was. Her fingers shook and she shivered from the cold as she returned to the wash bin, her dress lying in a heap on the floor.

* * *

Even before Lucy had left the room, Dracula knew she had not returned to her normal self. His suspicions were confirmed when his sensitive ears picked up her choking sobs coming from the washroom. They were too quiet for Victor to hear, but he was still uncharacteristically silent as he perused his notes. Remembering that it was part of the human process, the count put aside the sobs he heard to work on his research with Victor.

He glanced up sharply a moment later when he heard splashes alongside Lucy's sporadic weeping, but continued his work. The normally observant Victor did not remark on Dracula's strange behavior for once. It had been a trying day for all parties involved, but the girl would be fine; she was perfectly safe now. Not that he cared for her wellbeing in any case, this research was much more important than the human. Even so, he could no longer help but become concerned when he could no longer hear her strong heart beating wildly, her sobs suddenly silenced.

He suddenly jumped to his feet, faster than he should have in front of the human scientist. "Excuse me." He said abruptly and calmly made his way out of the laboratory. Once he was out of Victor's eyesight, he hurried through the halls and up the stairs to Lucy's washroom. He frowned heavily as he heard her heartbeat declining. He knew well enough the sounds of a waning heart that he could tell she was not dying, but something had happened. Restraining himself, he politely knocked on the washroom door; but when he received no answer he quickly opened the door and rushed inside.

If he had still been human, his heart would have stopped at the scene before him. The young woman lay on the floor in nothing but her petticoat and undergarments. She was soaking wet and her still lips were darkening from chill. He glared at the wash basin and, sticking a finger in, realized it had not been warm when she had used it, in fact, it had been nearly freezing. He quickly knelt by her side and taking off his coat, wrapped the thick cloth around her, trying to touch her as little as possible. Contact with his icy skin would merely make the problem worse.

He gently lifted her into his arms for the second time that afternoon and carried her to the dining room, where he knew there was a fire lit. He set her still body by the fire and waited for it to warm her.

"Stupid girl." He muttered angrily; the crisis over, he now had leave to relax, which meant letting his emotions loose again. He knew she could not hear him, unconscious as she was. "How could you do this to yourself?! I kept you safe and all you manage to do is hurt yourself again!" He heard her heart rate returning to normal, but subconsciously ignored it. "You should be glad I was there to save you!" Dracula was pacing now, ranting to the air more than anything else. "I may not be so readily available next time. Your uncle will not save you, girl."

Dracula turned to see her staring at him with wide eyes, newly formed tears ready to trickle down her cheeks. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh and ran one hand through his ebony hair. He knelt down next to Lucy and tried to soften his face. She shrunk back slightly, clutching his coat to her body.

"I am sorry I am such a burden." She choked. "I—I will go back home."

"No." The count said immediately; she jumped at his harshness and he tried to calm his voice. "No." he said again, softly, this time. "I was afraid for your safety." he lied quietly, or he thought he did. In the back of his mind there was something that said it was the truth. "From both earlier this afternoon and when you decided to take a cold bath in the winter. Neither of them being particularly healthy choices, Miss Moorland."

She nodded slowly then said, "I'm sorry you had to see me like this." She hung her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

Dracula was taken aback slightly; she surprised him at every turn. She did not wallow in her own self-pity, nor did she seem to crave his attention through her circumstances. She refrained from whining and complaining, even in light of the trials the day had presented. She was not weak in spirit as most women he had known throughout his life. This one, while delicate, was neither demanding nor particularly irritating. In fact, she seemed to enjoy his company when he was not inadvertently scaring her. "It is no trouble, Miss Moorland."

"I—I was so frightened. I thought—thought th—they would have killed me. O—or worse." She wailed suddenly, tears falling from her eyes.

"I know." He replied gently, unsure of how to proceed. She was genuinely seeking comfort in his presence, something he had not experienced in decades, if not centuries. A small smile graced his lips as he steadied her slender form; Lucy still trembled slightly as she sat up. He had a momentary urge to hold her in his arms, but dissuaded himself from such behavior. She seemed to want to hide herself from him, immediately looking away and into the fire that would have been cheery had the girl not been in her current state. He found himself wondering if there was something other than this afternoon's events that had sparked such a radical change in her demeanor, but he did not want to ask. He may not have been human any longer, but he would still act a gentleman.

* * *

Lucy continued to weep, acutely aware of the count's presence next to her. She tried and failed to calm herself several times, but was unable to completely quell her sobs. She refused to look at the count, knowing that her face was red and her eyes were pink and swollen from her tears. She knew he would be able to tell that her nose was running if she spoke, so she remained silent, still shaking with repressed sobs as she stared into the flames.

She felt his hand on her back; it almost seemed unsteady as if he was unsure whether or not he ought to have it placed there at all. She brought a hand up to her face to wipe some tears away from her wet cheeks, but was stopped by the count's hand gently grabbing her wrist.

"Lucy." he said softly.

She turned to face him, surprised that he used her given name.

He let go of her wrist to reach into a shirt pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, never taking his intense blue eyes off of hers. He brought it up to her distraught features and dabbed it softly on her cheeks.

"I—I'm—"

"Stop apologizing." Dracula interrupted, harsher than he intended to. "Why do you hide from me?" he continued softly, still slowly wiping the tears off her face. "I am not going to think less of you because you have been hurt."

Lucy gave a very slight and timid nod. She wanted to tell him why it had affected her so greatly, but she was afraid to. She was not entirely sure what she was afraid of, but there was an irrational fear that he would reject her in some way if she told him her very real fears. She did not want him to think differently of her; to think that she was silly and scared, and would always be so. She opened her mouth slightly, trying to find some way to explain her reaction, but thought better of it and quickly shut it again.

"Please, do not be afraid to speak your mind, Miss Moorland."

"I—" Lucy inhaled deeply, her lungs shuddering at the sensation. "My father—"

Dracula remained very still; admittedly curious about this girl's past.

"He was— or is— a doctor in—" She choked slightly. "In the Pacific Colonies. He—he went missing several months ago. Some of the villages there are not known for their tolerance. He— put himself in a lot of danger just by going. I can't help but wonder if—" Tears began streaming down her cheeks as she spoke. "If there was a mob like the one today who took him a—away from me."

"I—I also heard stories; stories I knew I was not bidden to hear. The women— the native women in those colonies… They are treated like slaves; worse than slaves, like animals. I—I heard they take the women and—and—" She trailed off, unable to say what they did to the women, but the count nodded in understanding.

Dracula knew enough about humanity to know what levels they would stoop to. He may be a monster in many eyes, but forcing himself on a woman was one thing even found disgusting. Seduction he did very well, but to behave like a worthless, unthinking beast; that was inconceivable for him.

"I c—couldn't help but think about those women today when—when that man grabbed me."

The count let out a breath and nodded at her slowly. "I would not have let them hurt you."

Lucy bit the inside of her lip, not knowing what to say. She knew that he would not let any harm come to her. Her breath caught in her chest as he wiped away her tears, not with the cloth she had expected, but with his bare thumb.

"I _will_ keep you safe here, Lucy." he promised. "It was my fault you were put in such a terrifying situation this afternoon. It will not happen again."

"Thank you." she replied quietly.

"Will you be alright now?" he inquired, slightly hesitant to leave her alone again.

Lucy nodded and gave him a shy smile. "Yes." She sniffed. "I will be fine."

Dracula helped the girl to her feet.

"Your coat." She said, indicating the cloth that was wrapped around her form. "I can—"

"Do not trouble yourself, Miss Moorland. You can return it to me when you are back to normal. I shan't require the use of it."

She nodded again and, suddenly conscious that she did not have the bulky fabric on that she would otherwise, pulled his coat tighter around her frame. She smiled at the count one last time before retreating up the stairs to put on a new, clean dress and wash the salt off her face with _hot _water. As she left Dracula's presence she could not help but think about all the stories she had read in the past. He had lent her his coat, and he had not seemed to mind when she had gotten upset. Her aunt had told her that men hate it when a woman appears weak and afraid, but neither he, nor the heroes in her stories seemed to care at all. In fact, he appeared to care a great deal about her well-being, even taking it so far as to promise to protect her while she was here with her uncle.

Little did she know that the being she needed the most defense from, would be the one providing it.

* * *

**A/N: **No excuses. I lost a ton of steam on this story during the holidays. (Honestly, I lost a great deal of steam on everything.) I hope the return of a new quarter will rectify this and allow me to feel free to spend my free time doing things that I enjoy (Like writing, and reading, etc =P )


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